And So We Go
by LavsBlack
Summary: "You will not talk to him before?" I want to get away from him, Pepper." When your father does something that you think it's unforgivable what most teenagers do is run away, right? But most teens do not board the first plane they see. Well, Lisla Stark stopped being most people a long time ago.
1. And I make a not so bad decision

**Heey guys, I'm so nervous right now about posting this story, lol. I really hope you like it, and please ignore the grammar mistakes because english isn't my native language, I'm actually brazilian hahahaha. If you wanna be my beta, please talk to me. Sooooo, if you wanna talk with me about And So We Go you can go on my tumblr: .com. I'm going to post somethings, like photos, outfits, maybe spoilers ;)**

 **xoxo, Black**

* * *

Lisla was starting to get desperate.

"Sir, I don't speak your language…" She nervously looked around. Of course she should have studied the local language before impulsively get on the plane, but it was just like her father had once told her, in one of the times he remembered that he had a teenage daughter, impulsive actions have consequences, at that time, Lisla assumed that he was preventing about skipping classes or going out for secret parties not about getting on the first plane to an unknown country.

Hours of pure sadistic pleasure passed before the reality decided to knock on her door, she was standing outside the airport while the driver in front of her stared at her like she was an alien sent to annoy him. She took a deep breath and put on a smile as nature as she could, even if her entire face expire desperate. _If I use mimicry will he understand?_ But before she could do the movements that would probably mark her forever the taxi driver gave her one last look and walked away, leaving the airport leaving the airport, probably scared of lost girls who did not speak his language.

A black coat woman passed behind her, bumping lightly on the girl, making her stumble in her own suitcase and fall on the cold floor.

"This is it, Lisla, you basically throw yourself in the fire." With the right hand she removed the fring out of her eyes and stood up, taking a deep breath, this was the time for her to calm down, she was in a crowded airport, full of people who could easily recognize her, if someone had entered the Twitter of her father's agente, because she doubted that Tony Stark would have noticed that her daughter disappeared that early in the morning. No, they could not screw it, not when all she wanted was to move away from her old life. She looked around, and for her surprise, there wasn't a lot of people, which only proves her assumption to have landed in a no so popular country, lucky her. She had to face it as an opportunity, opportunity to change Lisla Stark-Price, to become only Lisla Price.

 _A new beginning. Yes, a new beginning without missing mothers, armor, destroyed parties and life risks._

With her head down, her long hair serving as a curtain, she walked through the crowd, keeping the steps at a pace that did not sound suspicious, but still walking fast, finding a restroom close to the stairs. _Perfect, away from prying eyes._

Lisla tried to take the proper precautions before starting her change, she was really inspired by her sudden idea of change, she checked if the bathroom was empty, and then opened her suitcase on the marble sink without bothering to water it, her clothes and accessories jumped off the suitcase, Lisla was not one of the most organized people in the world, especially when it came to something as trivial as packing her suitcase, she had the bad habit of simply throwing everything and struggling to close it later. She still felt nervous, and her anxiety only increasead. She still felt nervous, and her anxiety only increased, she looked over her shoulder fearing that someone was coming, lucky for her, nothing happened.

She, quickly, began to hunt the tools she needed through her clothes, her pink curling iron was the first to appear, then a long scissor and the hair dye she bought for emergencies, when she was still deciding what to bring. She put everything on the table and took a deep breath, meeting her eyes in the mirror in front of her. Her brown eyes could not be changed as she couldn't use lenses and her big eyes were too iconic to be worth hide and, deep down, she didn't want to hide from her father, just change enough that he did not recognize his own daughter. An easy task.

No, it was not worth changing her eyes. But her hair was.

She approached the sharp scissors of one of the strands of her long hair and without thinking twice, cut and the lock that once was part of her hair fell in the sink. One, two, three, four and then all of her hair is gone, what was above her waist, now barely reached her shoulder. Lisla tried to cut as straight as possible, so it would be at least decent, but she couldn't be sure until she finished everything. She checked again the outside of the bathroom and picked the objects to dye her hair. The shade of the hair dye way darker than her hair , the closest to deep black she could find.

She tried to make the service swiftly, her heart pounding with every noise outside the bathroom, it would be at least awkward if anyone came in now and found her dying her hair, with no suspictions at all. When it was ready, she used one of the bathrooms to wash her hair. Now besides short, it were darker, which contrasted better with her white skin, almost too pale to be healthy, in its natural state, it was wavy and smooth, not straight like she used to use.

 _Great, different enough for anyone to betray me to my father, but still seems to be me._

A noise sounded again outside and Lisla knew she could not risk so much, she gathered all of her stuff, being careful not to leave any trace behind. Before she could extend a hand to open the door, it opened, hitting her hard enough to throw her back a bit and letting a girl in. All Lisla's things fell to the ground with a crack and the brunette cursed. The girl who came said something in a strange language, but Lisla sent him a confused look and she switched to an English with a heavy accent, which sounded European.

"Here, let me help you" She went down along with Lisla handing her one of the perfumes that had rolled near the sink. Lisla, even with her head down, remained attentive to the movements of the other girl, observing if she showed any hostile attitude or recognize her, but despite the threatening look, her grandmother would probably have an heart attack with her clothes, the girl did not seem to want to kill her. She looked her age, 18 years or something, not by the way she dressed, but her face still had young features, had long and very dark hair, big tired light eyes, marked with a strong makeup, she wore clothes worn down and full of personality, a black dress and somethng that looked like a red shawl, Lisla decided not to judge the fashion of the place.

When they collected all the things, the brunette gave her a small smile and went into one of the stalls, without looking back. And Lisla did the same, only toward the exit.

Not long after she left the airport, and the air-conditioned comfort, she had to get rid of the coat she wore, or would melt. Lisla still had no idea where she was, but it certainly was not Alaska. It was still early, around noon, the sun burned strong in the narrow cobbled streets and soon she was forced to undo the cap she wore. She walked the sidewalks looking for any boards that could tell her where she was, but again, all she could see was words in that strange language. When she was in front of what looked like a restaurant, the one thing she had forgotten gave signs of life playing Taylor Swift at maximum volume.

Her phone.

She reached into her pocket almost in the blink of an eye, slightly stunned by her own stupidity. Why the hell she didn't get rid of the phone before? The facility with which her father could find her could not be measured now, but for her lucky name that appeared on the caller ID it was a little less suspicious. A little.

Pepper Potts

Her stepmother in a nearly perfect future. Pepper was her father's blonde secretary and one of the best people Lisla ever met, she practically raised her in the days she spent in Malibu, always with her suits and gentle smiles. Lisla always preferred to spend time with Pepper instead of with Tony. It was not a surprise that the woman was calling her.

"Hello, Pepper?" She used the most innocent voice that could. Pepper was smart enough to be suspicious of something, it was better hide from the beginning.

"14 hours without news, tell me, without hesitation, that you're not in the house of a stranger with a hangover, Lis, I can't handle two Tony Starks" Lisla bit the inside of her cheek to stop her from giving an impulsive answer, her goal was to outwit Pepper.

"Oh no. I ended up sleeping in a friend's house … Olive, remember her, a redhead one?" Her casually looked real and she almost laughed at the mention of Olive, who didn't even exist but Pepper probably didn't bother to decorate the faces of all of her friends.

"Well, when you come back? I don't want to have to explain to Tony what you were doing, you're still mad at him?" Lisla bit her cheek again, but now to avoid a bitter comment. _As if he cared._ She giggled humorless.

"I'm going back to my grandmother's house, Pep" She spoke softly, returning to walk through the empty streets. _Believe me, Pepper, no questions._

"What?" Pepper's voice did not come out stridently as would be the reaction of most people, but Lisla knew she was disconcerted.

"Long time no see, it is a good time to visit her, you know, now that I finished school" The lie came easier now with details.

"I get it, you don't want to talk to Tony before? - _I want to get away from him, Pepper._

"I don't think it's necessary, I send message after … - Her questions were making her nervous - Oh, look, Emilia arrived, bye Pepper.

 _Emilia? Damm it!_

She took a deep breath for two seconds, eyes wide with her own slide. And, on impulse, she threw the phone on the floor, stepping over tightly, until she's are sure that the machine would never work again.

How to move on after that? _One step at a time, Lisla._ Tooking a deep breath, she picked up the scraps from her phone and turned to walk, decided to organize altogether. She managed to escape from California with no one noticing, had an alibi with Pepper, if she did not take her slide over the friend who never existed, but what now? Lisla was fully aware that she could not roam the streets forever, just waiting for someone to recognize her or starve to death. The best step was finding out where she was, and the most obvious if she was honest with herself.

Lisla returned to walk, she was almost certain that she had already crossed the same street, at least three times, one of the cakes in a shop window seemed vaguely familiar. No sign in English, and nothing she could identify as the name of a country or language. Desperation began to beat her again, regret and also the childish will of wanting to go home, where everything was easier and quiet. _Stop with those thoughts, they are not healthy._

Her hopes were fed when she arrived at the end of one of the streets, and found the first human since the airport exit. It was a little man, bald, wearing a dark green suit, nearly dropping down a briefcase he was carrying in his right arm as he passed his hand on sweaty forehead. He looked like an ordinary man, who had just left work and was returning home, a man you would easily see in the United States. But what if he didn't speak english? No. It was her chance

"Sir? Sir? Would you have a moment?" She called louder the second time, going towards him, who seemed surprised to be summoned by a foreign girl. He gave her a warm smile, just to prove that he was understanding her. To her relief.

"I'll probably make the strangest question you will hear in life" She started, only for him to laugh, probably not believing. Lisla gave a nervous smile back, certain that she would prove him wrong "Where are we?"

His small eyes widened, certainly finding the question odd, Lisla couldn't exactly blame him, he opened his mouth to reply, but then closed it.

"We're … we're …"

"I meant in what country!" Now he took a discreet step back, and this aroused her curiosity. Why would he be suspicious of her, were they in a tumultuous country? Where no one could trust anyone? She hoped not. Lisla had no armor like her father. She could see that the man was suspicious of her, so she decided to explain. "I took the wrong plane, need to know what country I am to be able to return home."

He returned to relax, and she turned into an innocent teenager again.

* * *

"Oh, dear, we are in Sokovia, a place you probably never heard of before" His voice sounded almost melancholic, as though proud of the country, but sorry for her landing there.

 _Sokovia? Where the hell was Sokovia? Does it even exist?_

Lisla assessed the man's face, looking for signs that he was mocking her, she knew it was easily what happens with lost teenagers, rats, her father would probably be one of those who would not miss the joke. But he seemed sincere enough for her to go back to being friendly, to boot as much information as possible.

"I'm American, and to be honest, I hadn't heard" She giggled with the last sentence, and he accompanied her. Lisla didn't wanted to hold the man, she was sure he had a wife and children to meet, she could see the golden wedding ring at a distance, then tried to proceed with the matter. "What language do you speak here? Just in case I need to trigger Google Translator"

"Russian, but I believe that most here speak English decently, if you do not mind the accent, of course"

"I'm sure that will not bother me, you for example, have almost none" Of course it was a lie, it was almost difficult to understand what he was saying in most cases, the accent that she now recognized as Russian was loaded up even how he pronounced 'I'. But the false compliment seemed to cheer him up. "One last thing, I'm sure you have better things to do than to talk to a foreigner. Where can I find a hotel?"

"A… what?" He stumbled on the words.

"A hotel, an inn or something - explained, gesturing to see if he understood" Not that she could blame him, he had a full conversation with her without tripping over a word.

"Looks like we'll have problems with his accent" He laughed out loud and Lisla bit the inside of her cheek, what was becoming almost a habit now, she was sure she could speak her language perfectly. She still had the accent of New York, where she studied, instead of taking the sloppy accent California, thank God. She quickly averted the comment and remained with a friendly face, waiting for the answer.

"You see that blue building?" He pulled her by the arm turning in the right direction, where a building of about 5 floors stood out "There is the nearest hotel, is very good, by the way, I'm sure will get comfort"

"Thank you, really" She thanked, Pepper teach her manners, the man went on his way, entering one of the streets to finally disappear from sight.

* * *

The building did not look like much now that she got closer, it would go unnoticed entirely in New York, that she was sure. The building was old as the blue paint was peeling, the windows were closed and did not have large balconies as the hotels that Lisla was used to, but it looked clean and safe. It was not a five-star hotel, actually only the board with neon letters that formed a Russian word that was probably the hotel name confirmed that it was actually a hotel, because otherwise she would confuse the building with any other. The entrance was cozy, decorated with vases of flowers and dark wood furniture, with a striped carpet extended from the sidewalk to the interior of the building.

Lisla did not hesitate to enter, her sneakers soiled the carpet on the ground but she bothered to clean, followed straight to the bench, with another of her smiles on her faces. The receptionist was a middle-aged woman with dark hair stuck in a bun, makeup on her face and red lipstick on her lips that definitely did not match her dark green sweater and scarf with the same print the welcome mat, the standard of the hotel, perhaps? She was fiddling with something on the phone before spotting Lisla and say something in Russian. The girl nodded saying he did not understand.

 _I definitely need to learn to speak Russian, this is getting boring._

"How may I help you, miss?" Her pronunciation was relatively better than the man Lisla had spoken, very likely because her job. She smiled sympathetically, but mechanically. Lisla did the same.

"Do you have a spare room?" Lisla was slightly embarrassed by her lack of knowledge in the area to book a room, but in her defense who always did that was Pepper. The receptionist looked away quickly to the computer in front of her, searching for what she had asked.

"Yes, most of our rooms are vacant, has a preference for a floor?" She asked politely, and Lisla would answer no, but held hertongue at the last moment. _You are a fugitive, Lisla, have to start thinking differently._

"The lower floors, please" _Easier to escape if they find me._

"Your name please?" That was the tricky part, if she answered the truth was very likely that the receptionist did not believe or else send back to the United States. _You wanted to be someone else, so be it._

"Lisla Price" She pulled the only document with that name, that she used when she was living with her grandmother, she knew it would come in handy. She held her breath as the receptionist analyzed the document, her heart racing waiting for her to buy the lie.

"There you go, room 113, on this same floor, just follow down that corridor, would you like anyone to carry your bags?" Lisla sighed, it was easy. She took the keys te receocionist gave to her.

"No, I can take them alone, thank you." It was not that she was carrying a bag of smuggled armor, but it did not seem right to leave her only possessions in unknown hand, especially when she felt so nervous and anxious to be in a different country, she was always a suspicious person, but her current situation raised this to an extreme.

* * *

Lisla could relax completely for the first time in days.

The hotel bed was comfortable, but her last experience with sleep was in a plane seat with a small Spanish child crying besides her. It was quite relaxing going back to sleep horizontally. As promised by the façade, the hotel was not the most luxurious she had been in life, Tony Stark stay nowhere but the best and shewas dragged along with him. It was a small, cozy room, feeling given by wooden floors, red tones in furniture, curtains of a lightweight fabric that Lisla didn't know which. The room was filled by the bed, a wardrobe and a white refrigerator, little but enough to Lisla.

Spoiled and childish Lisla Stark would think it was too simples, but Lisla Price didn't have a billionaire father.

Lisla didn't admit to anyone, but she was enjoying Lisla Price, she looked like a more proper girl, or as an idealized, and looked more like … her. In essence, Lisla Price was much Lisla than Lisla Stark, or so she liked to think, because it was easier to separate the two Lislas, when probably they were only one person, with mixed faults and qualities, creating a time bomb of flesh and blood that caused more damage than a simple explosion. _Yeah, maybe Lisla Price and Lisla Stark are the same person, but I need them to be different. I need it._

Lisla Price was freedom, she had no strings on her. No pressure, no one to be disappointed with something wrong because Lisla Price had no one. And sometimes it was a good thing.

But Lisla Price also had no one that supported her, and despite not liking that her utopian character had problems, Lisla could not deny this one. How to stay in Sokovia, if she wanted to really get rid of Stark, she'd to get rid of his money too. Get a job here? Start from the beginning? Literally? What would be her story? She had to plan everything calmly, rambling lying on a hotel bed was not helping, no idea arose.

She got up from under the sheets, being attacked by the cold wind from the window, a surprise because it was hot yesterday. Even the weather here is unpredictable. She took a deep breath, letting her feet touch the cold wood of the floor, walking to the porch. That lack of creativity was leaving her anxious, as usual. She was always good at inventing lies and leaving impossible situations with only her wit, but now nothing comes. She ran her hands through hr hair in frustration. _Come on, brain, think._

It was better to erase everything, explain her lack of contact with his family, or so she hoped, with death. Orphan, parents died in the Battle of New York, a real and famous event cause more commotion, but would also be easy to be unmasked. _Don't give reason to distrust them, act, Lisla._ But why would she be in Sokovia? Here comes the easy part, orphaned and grieving girl runs away from reality up on the first plane, miraculously falling in Sokovia. When the lie is just a distorted truth everything is easier.

Sokovia looked beautiful at sunrise, although she has not caught one of the best angles, the view was nice. Looked nothing like New York, or even Malibu. The architecture was different, the aura of the place was different, New York passed an aura of opportunity and excitement while Sokovia was eerily deserted, as if holding her breath waiting for the next storm.

It's really this place I want to start over?

* * *

 **It's me again! Now that you read, leave a review, let's talk about it \o/**

 **xoxo, Black**


	2. And I Become A Stalker

Four days.

Four days later and Lisla was about to decree death for psychological reasons: boredom.

Lisla was born and raised in New York, spent the holiday in Malibu, and has traveled several times with her father, and sometimes with her grandmother, all around the world. The girl could boast of never having a boring life, Lisla enjoyed the bustle and noise of big cities, where there was always something to do. When she was still in school, one of her dreams was to graduate and enjoy all of New York. Sokovia seemed to have come to test her sanity.

Every single day in the city was the complete opposite of everything Lisla knew. She was there for three days, three long days where all she did was remember every moment of New York. She spent the first days locked inside the hotel room, involuntarily, just taking a little peek through the window to feel the atmosphere of the place, but going back right after.

On the first day anxiety filled her with energy and curiosity. On the second day the room began to bore her and she leaves for the reception, maybe to talk to the woman who she met before, but the woman was not there. On the third day her cell phone started to be missed. On the fourth day she decided she could not take it anymore, she was in need for social contact.

On the fourth day she woke up around 10 am, her window faced the west side so the sun was not a problem, decided to wander through the city, she was certain she would go mad if she spent another day staring at the white walls of the hotel room, her clothes were all still in the bag, Lisla didn't trust that much in the hotel and it was easier to escape if needed. She put on comfortable clothes, Lisla always had a fascination for clothes and fashion in general, but it seemed to vanish since she arrived in Sokovia, she no longer felt aversion to wear a simple shirt with no accessory. She dressed quickly with a black shirt and cargo pants, and locked the bag in the wardrobe, and then finally take corage to go.

She didn't bumped into anyone the halls, apparently Sokovia did not receive many visitors this time of year, or any time, the only human figure was the receptionist, who was in the corner in her phone not so discreetly. She hesitated at the reception room, would be worth walk around a town that nothing called her attention, she did not know about any tourist spot, Sokovia was just boring. That little monster of regret began to press her again, urging her to return to the room and crying wanting to go home. Her hands clenched into fists so hard that her fingernails almost tore the skin. A little boy dressed in red ran outside and she came back, forcing her feet to walk again.

The receptionist made a move to go talk to her, but Lisla paid no attention. The light outside didn't even affected her, even the sun here is different. The sun in Malibu was almost excruciating when at its peek, New York's was more lenient, but nothing compared to what happened in Sokovia that day, different until the day she arrived, the sun's rays hardly appeared and the town had a gray tone in its streets.

Don't be dramatic, you put yourself in that position.

Sokovia was as silent as the hotel, the weather seemed to have pushed people away from the streets, or mybe it was the weekend, apparently the residents of Sokovia liked to lock themselves up on breaks, Lisla had few glimpses of people in their homes and children running from one side to the other, they didn't seem to care, two young people sneaking into an alley, Lisla was keen to move away from them. Even with the feeling that she wouldn't find anything a good muscle ache for her lack of proper shoes, she kept walking.

Ten, twenty, thirty minutes later to finally something happens. Lisla walked through the streets around the hotel, the avenues where they landed until she finally find something interesting, and useful. One of Lisla's main problems was money, she couldn't just keep with her Stark credit card, the second they found out she's missing, Pepper would try to track her things, her cell phone was gone, and so should be her credit card. She would have to survive on her own, the problem was: she had no money, Lisla always lived at the expense of the Stark fortune, never had to save a penny, she was dealing with these errors now.

There was a small bakery, in one of the streets, one small and more adorned than the others, with trees on sidewalks. It was cute and tidy, with attractive cakes and sweets, but what caught her attention was the little announcement in the glass, translated into English, to her surprise.

Available Jobs for helpers.

Contact Mrs. Cosset

She could already see her, hours and hours stuck in a kitchen, wrinkled hands by washing dishes or dirty hands by messing with cakes, the desire to ignore the announcement was huge, she sure could get something better. Be strong, Lisla, your nails do not matter anymore. It was hard to abandon her flaws, but it was what had to happen now. For the sake of her journey. She decided to take a chance.

The bakery inside had more pink tones than needed and even had a woman at one of the counters, receiving a package from an older woman. Lisla walked hesitantly towards them, with her head down, almost like an instinct not to be recognized, giving a smile for the customer that was leaving. The owner of the store now turned her attention to the brunette

"What can I do, honey?" She greeted, friendly and in English, like she could tell that Lisla was not from there. The lady had white hair about shoulder length, in an elegant chanel cut and a badge that said Mrs. Cosset. She had gentle brown eyes and a tenderness that seemed eternal. Lisla was always good at reading people, a very useful skill in the nest of snakes she called the school. This ability maybe save her life one day.

"I came for the available jobs" She pointed to the announcement on the outside, the woman then seemed interested, she came out from behind the counter and started toward her, a white cloth cleaning her dusting hands.

"Oh, finally, I can't handle all this work alone, my back isn't the same as twenty years ago" She let a giggle, a typical nice woman, as if she wanted to make Lisla less nervous "What's your name, dear?"

"Lisla Price" The maiden name of her mother went out more naturally after four days of use. Mrs. Cosset was hers now.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

" You said you were from where?" Margot asked causally while adorning one cake with blue icing, and Lisla sighed.

Despite the delicate appearance, Ms. Cosset was talkative, a lot, she did a quick interview with Lisla, basic questions like age, education, Lisla answered the questions with the same sincerity she answered all the others since she arrived, fifty percent true, fifty percent lies with well-placed words to appear as truth. Mrs. Cosset - or Margot, as she insisted on being called - seemed pleased with Lisla's responses and offered the job, nothing much, she said, but what Lisla needed was a distraction.

And work at the bakery was not very difficult, very convenient for the 18 year old girl whose only job in life was PE classes in high school, Margot asked that Lisla stay at the front desk while she took care of the kitchen. And that was how she spent the rest of the day, smiling at customers who occasionally came and talking to Margot, who with an almost annoying manner, wanted to know everything about the life of Lisla.

"Uh ... the United States but precisely New York" She said, a pen between her lips as she counted the money in cash, by the end of the day, Margot trusted her enough to allow it.

"It must be such a beautiful place, I never leave Sokovia, not even when I was younger" Lisla sighed again, she was doing everything possible to avoid the conversation without being rude to the woman, but she just couldn't stop talking. She looked to the clock hanging on the wall, 14:00 pm, her shift didn't end until last 17:00 and she couldn't avoid Margot. The older woman was going to make one more question when it was interrupted by the door opening, two people coming in.

Lisla quickly recognized the shorter person, she was wearing similar clothes to the last time they met, it was the airport bathroom girl. Lisla would recognize that clothing style everywhere, and she was wearing the same jacket. But she was not alone, beside her was a boy, who shared some features of her, almost as if they were from the same family, siblings or cousins, most likely. He had few centimeters more than a girl, but the same dark hair and big eyes.

Lisla was conscious of the fact that she was staring at them, but although the boy was very beautiful, and her type if she was being honest with herself, but that was not why she was staring them, not all of it. Something more than the similarity gave away the fact that they are relatives, the two moved almost in orbit, it was intriguing to watch them, and they had an aura of mystery, as if they were up to something, mainly because they do not show any intention to make a request. Lisla put away the money and focused on watching the pair. The girl led the way, whispering something to him, Lisla but was too far to make a lip reading. She pursed her lips in frustration, her curiosity would end up killing her someday.

She crossed the counter, pulling a cloth to pretend cleaning the nearest table, quietly leaning toward the two to listen, without success, they still spoke too low. Lisla could feel the stares on her back, maybe they noticed she was intruding, perhaps only wanted away. However, she remained in place, ears alert. But in that position, she could not see what the two were doing.

A mirror and would have come in handy.

She turned her neck to not lose sight of them. The first to make eye contact with her was the boy, he turned himself, agitated, passing energy eyes around the room, to finally focus on the only human being in sight: Lisla. He stared sharply, his light eyes, by that distance she could not tell what color they were, sparkled with a contained fury, as if she was messing up their plans, like a pawn who was in the wrong place on the chessboard. It can not be, she never even had seen him. I did nothing to him, that was certain. There was something in his face that did not indicate recognition, the boy did not recognize her, his bitterness was not personal, directly connected to her.

He did not look away and throughout the Lisla time felt a shiver down the spine until the girl whisper something to him and they leave the place without looking back. This only poked the Lisla's curiosity the two did not act naturally, they were definitely planning something, and she wanted to find out what it was. Margot was still in the kitchen, humming a song in Russian, distracted. Overcome with curiosity and sudden courage she dropped the cloth and, with care to not drawn Margot's attention, she followed them.

On the outside, for a few seconds she thought she'd lost them, but she could see the red jacket girl crossing one corner, disappearing into another street. Lisla quickly followed down the sidewalk, her heart beating hard with the possibility of Margot noticing her little escapade and fire her. The two returned to whisper, what they were always speeking was what Lisla wanted to know. They kept walking for a few minutes, moving away more and more of bakery and entering a more deserted part of the commercial area of Sokovia. Lisla thought about giving up, it seemed that the two were returning home or something similar, the courage had passed and she stayed with the feeling she was acting as a perfect and creepy stalker, who were going to lose her job and be deported back to USA.

But what happened next made her change her mind completely. They were discreet, Lisla had to admit. They stopped in front of a store, the last of the street, whose output was a huge wall, the boy reached down and fast as an arrow, he took what looked like a stone from the ground and threw in a window, breaking the glass, the sound echoed through the street, but didn't draw attention from anyone, not that far from the movement of people. Without giving Lisla opportunity to absorb what she had gotten herself into, he went through the window with the girl on his heels.

Seconds later, there was only the glass on the sidewalk as witness to what was Lisla went after.


End file.
